ATeam Moments In Time
by Ross7
Summary: A-Team Moments In Time sort a' sums it all up.
1. Chapter 1

"Just Another Day At The Office"

**"Just Another Day At The Office"**

by Ross7

B.A. pulled his van off of the main road and parked in a secluded little clearing, less than a quarter of a mile from the mark's home. He and his teammates exited the vehicle and began arming themselves with an assortment of weapons and grenades.

The foursome stood there in the sunlit clearing, cramming spare cartridges into their coat pockets, their eyes darting about, ever vigilant. The atmosphere was one of eager anticipation, seasoned with a healthy dash of dread.

No one spoke. There was no need for words. Each member of the Team could tell, at a glance, what the others were thinking. This uncanny mind-reading ability allowed them to anticipate one another's every move. As a result, the four-man team functioned as if it were a single person—an individual with a personality that just happened to be split four ways…sometimes more, depending on what shape Murdock's psyche was in.

Speaking of Murdock, he slung the strap of his assault rifle over his shoulder and watched while his team— The A-Team—prepared to take on, and tackle, yet another dastardly foe. The scene's familiarity caused the Captain to smile. 'Business as usual,' he thought.

Business was the same, all right. Only, the Team had changed. The bonds of trust and friendship, that had been forged a decade back, where now ten times stronger. They knew, and understood, each other so much better, now. Correspondingly, their already 'crack' Commando team had become that much better, as well. So, it was only 'same old, same old' on the surface.

Murdock considered that for a moment and then assumed the demeanor of the Dalai Lama. "When change occurs from within, it is often difficult to discern."

Hannibal set his .60 caliber machine gun, and a backpack full of extra ammo belts, down on the floor of the van. "That's…deep, Murdock," he told the man who had been waxing philosophical all morning. Then, to the entire team, he said, "I'm gonna go check out the lay of the land. If I'm not back in five minutes, send out the Cavalry." With that, he slipped a handgun from the holster on his hip and started heading off, in the direction of the bad guys' abode.

The 'cavalrymen' watched the Colonel vanish into one of the thick groves of beech trees, which bordered their little clearing.

To kill time, whilst their C.O. was off scouting about, Face turned to his 'deep' friend and struck up a conversation. "Okay. I'll bite. What's changed…that we haven't noticed?"

"Everything," Murdock replied, "and yet…nothing."

Face mulled the Captain's cryptic remark over for a moment or two. "That's…deep, all right." It was certainly waaaay over his head.

"There ain' nothin' deep about it!" B.A. determined, sounding every bit as disgusted as he looked. "Thas' jes' a bunch a' jibber-jabber! Jes' a lot a' crazy talk from a crazy fool!" he concluded and glared in the Crazy Fool's direction.

Dalai Murdock stood his ground. "It is quite a quandary. However, it is written…somewhere…that true enlightenment will come…to those who 'contemplate'…the words...of a fool."

B.A. had been tolerating Murdock's nonsensical mutterings all morning. But, he'd had, and heard, enough. His scowl deepened and his dark eyes narrowed, even further, into menacing slits. "True pain will come ta those who 'speak' the words of a fool! Contemplate 'that', sucker!"

The Captain thought the Sergeant's threat over and then took immediate steps to increase the distance between them.

A thought-filled silence ensued.

Face had already been giving Murdock's curious comments further consideration. 'Everything changes.' His circumstances certainly had, especially since leaving Nam. He was still driving around with the top down. Only now, his ride was a shiny, new Vette, instead of a dusty old army jeep. Gone were the faded fatigues. Nowadays, he decked himself out in designer clothes. Why, he even had his own tailor. His hooch was a posh penthouse and, instead of gagging down K-Rations, he frequently found himself dining at some of the fanciest eateries in L.A.. No doubt about it, things were definitely…different.

'Nothing changes.' Face gazed down at the rifle strap in his hand. He was still toting weapons around. He was still scamming his way through life. He was still searching for a place to put down permanent roots. And, amazingly, he still had three of the finest friends a guy could ever hope to find. Their Team had developed its own special chemistry over the years. He could feel that chemistry at work, whenever the four of them got together. It was working right then, in fact—more powerfully than ever... The Lieutenant turned to the now quiet Captain and gave him an 'enlightened' stare.

Much to his dismay, B.A. also found himself 'contemplating' the crazy Captain's 'quandary'. 'Murdock jes' might be on ta somethin'. After all, L.A. is jes' a big, concrete jungle. Only dif'ernce is, now, we're goin' up agains' crooked bus'nessmen an' gangsters, instead a' Viet Cong guerillas.' But, they were still battling tyranny…still staying in step with their Special Forces' credo 'To Free the Oppressed'. Most importantly, the four of them were still the best of friends. No. Now, they were the BEST of the best of friends. The Sergeant aimed an 'enlightened' gaze in the Crazy Man's direction. As much as he hated to admit it, Murdock **was** on to something.

Murdock saw the looks his companions were giving him and realized they must have finally caught on. To be certain they were all aboard the same train of thought, the Captain came right out and said, "We're not the same team we were back in Nam."

Face flashed their Zen friend a warm smile. "Hey, we're not getting older, we're getting better. Right, B.A.?"

B.A. both grinned and agreed. "Right!"

The Colonel returned from his recon' right about then. Judging by what he'd just overheard, the topic of conversation was Team dynamics. The discussion had apparently ended on a positive note, because the guys were all smiling…at each other. He basked in the group's warm, fuzzy glow for a moment or two and then turned to his Lieutenant. "What did I miss?"

"Everything," Face parroted, his smile never fading, "and yet…nothing."

Hannibal saw the guys exchanging amused glances, once again. He suspected there was a great deal of truth to the statement. It just hadn't struck him as being particularly funny. It was obviously an 'inside joke', and now was not the time to have it explained to him. There was work to be done. He stepped up to their van's open side door and began donning the backpack he'd recently dropped there—the one filled with his Baby's 'formula'.

"So-o…" Murdock strolled up to their C.O. and stood at his side. "What did you find out, Colonel?"

"I didn't detect any video surveillance equipment, and the perimeter is no longer guarded." Hannibal shifted the pack and adjusted its straps, to distribute its content's considerable weight more evenly upon his shoulders. The sack was heavy out of necessity. His M-60 devoured a whopping 550 rounds per minute! Yes, Baby had a voracious appetite for ammo. Speaking of which, Hannibal picked the twenty-five pound weapon up and then cradled it, comfortably, in his crossed arms—hence, the name.

There! The A-Team was now loaded for bear and ready to rumble!

But first, the Colonel felt it was his…duty...to…inspire...the troops. He turned to his teammates and established direct eye contact with each of them. "Things certainly have changed since Nam. I remember how proud I was, back then, to lead you guys into battle. It was both an honor…and a privilege…to be your C.O.." The officer finished his little pep talk and began taking his leave. As soon as his back was turned, he allowed the smile he'd been suppressing to escape. Hey, they didn't have a corner on the 'inside joke' market.

Hannibal's associates had found his repeated usage of the 'past' tense more alarming than inspiring. The trio exchanged anxious glances, and then quickly caught up to their C.O..

The entire Team then continued to head towards the trees, traveling four abreast.

Face finally got up the nerve to pose **the** question. "What about now, Colonel?"

Hannibal's smile put in a second appearance. "No-ow, I walk beside you."

The group reached the edge of the clearing and came to a halt.

The Colonel made direct eye contact with each of his teammates again. "No-ow, though I never would have believed it to be possible, I'm even prouder."

The trio exchanged relieved glances, this time. They flashed Hannibal back his smile and then followed him into the woods…single file.

"Now-a-days," the Colonel continued, "the Team functions more like a corporation than a military unit. We're all stockholders with equal shares. However, being the 'planner' means that I must, out of necessity, have a controlling interest in the company. I would just like to say, that it is both an honor and a privilege to be The A-Team Corporation's C.E.O.."

His business associates rolled their eyes.

The foursome soon found themselves crouched down behind some low shrubs on the outskirts of the creep's compound.

The A-Team's Board of Directors held a brief meeting so its C.E.O. could hand out assignments. "Lieutenant, you take the left flank. Captain, you have the right. Sergeant, you…and me…and Baby makes three…are gonna go bang, rather loudly, on Mister' Braniff's front door."

Seeing the maniacal gleam in their C.E.O.'s eyes and the confident, almost cocky, grin on their C.E.O.'s face, the company's shareholders glanced at each other again and groaned inwardly.

It was just another day at the office.


	2. Chapter 2

"The Fall of The A-Team Empire"

**"The Fall of The A-Team Empire"**

by Ross7

Hannibal, Face, Murdock and B.A. came backing out of an electronics warehouse, and into a dark alley, with their automatic weapons blazing. The fleeing foursome piled into B.A.'s van, which had been left idling, just outside the building's back exit. Doors were hastily slammed and the revved up vehicle went fishtailing off, in the direction of the nearest city street.

"I've been thinking, Hannibal," Face suddenly said, over the sound of squealing tires. "Fornetti's got four more warehouses in the Los Angeles area. If you want to hit them all tonight, we really should hire some help."

Hannibal turned to B.A.. "Something tells me Face has a hot date tonight."

B.A. flashed Hannibal back a grin. "Yah mean **had**."

"They do it all the time in the Construction business," Face persisted. "Contractors hire sub-contractors to help them get a big job done on schedule."

"The Romans once hired a bunch a' thugs and foreign mercenaries to fight their battles for them," Murdock began rambling. "But, these hired guns could never be completely trusted. That plan also proved to be very costly. It was so expensive, in fact, that the emperor had to raise taxes to help pay for it. Increased taxation led to greater inflation…all of which contributed to the collapse of this once great world power."

"Nice historical perspective, Captain!" Hannibal sincerely commended.

"Thank you, Colonel," the Captain gratefully acknowledged.

"Yeah. Way to go, Murdock," Face grumbled.

The Colonel caught both comments. "He's right, Face. Hired guns can't be trusted—present company excepted. Besides, we hire this done…we hire that done…and, before you know it, someone else is having all the fun."

"Okay, okay," Face surrendered. "Just forget I ever brought the subject up. I mean, I'd hate to think that I had single-handedly caused the fall of The A-Team Empire."

"Nice try though, Lieutenant…rather resourceful." Hannibal's smile returned and he shot a glance back over his shoulder. "She must be pretty hot."

Face exhaled a wistful sigh. "She sizzles."

His Commander's slight, unseen smile broadened into an unseen grin.


	3. Chapter 3

"Peck's Not Just Another Pretty Face"

**"Peck's Not Just Another Pretty Face"**

by Ross7

Face pulled his car up beside his teammate's borrowed taxi and brought it to a screeching halt. "C'mon! Get in!"

Murdock exited the cab and vaulted into the Vette. "Where we goin?" he queried, as he settled back into the leather bucket seat beside his buddy. "I thought we were s'posed to stick with the suits."

"Plan A's a wash," Face informed him. "We've moved on to Plan B."

"Man, Plan A is always a wash!" Murdock groused. "We should just skip Plan A and go straight to Plan B, to begin with!"

"Ah-ah. But then, that would make Plan B…"

"…Plan A."

"A-And…"

"…a-and, Plan A is always a wash," Murdock finished, following his friend's brilliant, but bizarre, line of logic.

Face flashed his passenger a smug smile and tapped his right temple a few times.

The corners of Murdock's mouth turned up, somewhat. "So-o…What is Plan B?"

"The Colonel wants us to 'find' him a helicopter."

H.M.'s slight smile quickly graduated into a grin. The pilot would take a chopper over a taxi—anyday! "I lo-ove Plan B!"


	4. Chapter 4

"The A-Team's Sole Combatant"

**"The A-Team's Sole Combatant"**

By Ross7

The Special-Forces-trained trio stared down at the unconscious creep, and then at each other, in disbelief. Had it really just taken the **three** of them to overpower one of Hallis' hired thugs?

B.A. massaged his sore jaw and winced. 'Man! This guy mus' be a black belt, or somethin'!' he silently surmised. 'If they even award belts for kick boxin'…' At any rate, the man had certainly earned a few belts from him.

Face gazed back down at the goon for a few moments. Then, he grimaced and began reaching for his bruised backside. "He must've misunderstood. I told him to kiss my ass—not **kick** it."

Murdock was standing there, hunched over, clutching his tenderized ribcage. He flashed Face the slightest of smiles and then proclaimed, between tightly clenched teeth and gasped breaths. "Yeah…well…a kick in the butt…is better than two in the gut."

'Or, two in the jaw,' B.A. thought. "C'mon! We bes' go fin' the Colonel…or he gonna be kickin' all our butts!"


	5. Chapter 5

"Boxed In"

**"Boxed In"**

By Ross7

Murdock moved from one of his bound buddies to the next, slicing and dicing the cords that had been keeping them captive.

The A-Team's client's pretty, young daughter pulled the ropes from her wrists and listened, in stunned silence, as Hannibal laid out his 'back up' plan, for freeing her from her kidnappers.

"When Fedrizzi finds out we've escaped with the girl, he's gonna blow a gasket. He's gonna have his men looking everywhere for us…everywhere but here. You see, I figure that he'll figure we would want to get just as far away from this place as we possibly can. A-and, that's why we're going to stay right here…and hide in his house." Hannibal completely ignored the pained expressions on the faces of his companions, and flashed them all a broad, and confident, grin.

"Where yah goin', man?" B.A. wondered, as the Team's Commander suddenly began striding from the room.

"I'm going to take one of Fedrizzi's cars for a drive, ditch it and then double back," Hannibal quietly called back over his shoulder. "In the meantime, it's a big house. So, everyone find a comfortable place to hide."

"Your Colonel Smith thinks a bit 'outside the box', doesn't he," Miss Atherton remarked, as Templeton Peck took her by the elbow and began escorting her off.

Face was forced to smile at the little lady's understatement. "We don't believe he's capable of thinking 'inside the box'."

"Yeah," Murdock concurred. "Yah see, Hannibal's brain works on a whole nother level. His synapses have their own unique firing sequence."

"It's jes' the jazz, man!" Baracus quickly corrected. "It's jes' the jazz!"


	6. Chapter 6

"Boys Will Be Boys"

**"Boys Will Be Boys"**

by Ross7

The forest was dense with underbrush. Hannibal's senses were heightened. The hunter was also the hunted. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, he was hit! The Colonel's gaze dropped to his chest. He stared, in shock and disbelief, at the crimson stain that was trailing down the front of his white jumpsuit. "Murdo-ock! How could you? We're on the **same** team, for cryin' out loud!"

The Captain, also wearing white coveralls, dropped down from the tree limb he'd been perched upon. "I assure you, Colonel, I did not discharge my weapon!"

Hannibal's disbelief was quadrupled. "I've got lime. B.A.'s got grape. And, Face has orange. It HAD to be you! You're the only one using **red** Kool-Aid!"

Confronted with such damning evidence, his companion reluctantly came clean. "What can I say? You stepped within range and I couldn't help myself. I…I…snapped." The unrepenant Captain pointed the barrel of his Super-Soaker straight up. Then, he squeezed its plastic trigger and took a few refreshing swallows from his potable, portable, drink dispenser. H.M. licked his lips and beamed a broad, crimson smile at his teammate. "And, for the record, it's **cherry**."

The Colonel did the only thing he could do. He 'limed' him.


	7. Chapter 7

"Battling the Blues"

By Ross7

Following a close encounter of the 'pond scum' kind, the Team stopped at a local service station to fuel up before heading back to L.A..

Two of its members exited the van. B.A. left to top off his gas tank, and Face left to find them some snacks…some _soft_ snacks.

Murdock was sulking in the back, his index finger tentatively tracing the outline of a darkening bruise on the left side of his jaw. "Man, I hope we're gettin' 'hazardous pay' for this one, Hannibal."

Hannibal, who was sitting in the front passenger seat, clutching his bruised and battered ribcage, didn't respond.

H.M. began to squirm in his bucket seat. There seemed to be something pressing into his posterior. The Captain managed a sore smile, as a probing hand came up with a quarter. Two bits hardly qualified as 'hazardous pay'. He leaned forward and tapped his quiet Commander on the shoulder. "A quarter for your thoughts, Colonel," he teased and offered the man, who had finally turned to face him, the coin.

Hannibal managed the slightest of smiles. "It's nothing, really. I'm just a little worried about B.A.—"

"—B.A.?" Murdock quickly cut in. "You don' need ta worry 'bout him. He didn' even get hit!"

"There are different kinds of pain, Captain. Haven't you noticed how quiet and withdrawn he's been lately?"

H.M. looked thoughtful. Now that Hannibal mentioned it, the Big Guy hadn't called him 'Fool!'—even one time—the whole entire trip! "So-o…what you're sayin' is…we're all black an' blue. He's just black…an' blue." The Captain was pleased to see that his witty comeback had succeeded in coaxing another slight smile from his troubled teammate. Now, if they could only think of a way to cheer up B.A.. A strange look came over him, as something suddenly dawned on him. "What's the plan, Colonel? How we gonna put a lil' ol' smile back on that big, ugly, mud-sucker's face?"

Hannibal snatched the quarter from the Captain's hand. "I'll fill you in at the next stop," he promised, just prior to slipping out his side door.

Murdock arched an eyebrow and watched as the evasive planner began heading, rather gingerly, for the public phone booth at the far corner of the garage. The Captain couldn't wait for 'the next stop'.

* * *

"Take the next exit, B.A.," the Colonel requested, twelve hours of non-stop travel later.

B.A., who was in a mighty big hurry to get home, balked at being sidetracked. "What for?"

"Lindstrom is sending our money via courier," Hannibal calmly explained—er, lied through his loosened teeth. "We have to swing by the airport and pick up our pay."

The Big Guy wasn't buying any part of that reply, and he shot his front seat passenger a glare that said as much. "Thas' the dumbest thing I ever heard, Hannibal!"

"I know!" the Colonel whole-heartedly agreed. "But what could I do? The guy insisted that we be paid in cash, and he apparently banks back East somewhere. Talk about your 'quirky' clients…"

B.A. reluctantly hit his turn signal and, even more begrudgingly, began changing lanes. "You better not be lyin' ta me, Hannibal!" he warned, as they exited the freeway.

Hannibal flashed his menacing amigo a smile that was part cherubic and part Cheshire Cat. "B.A., when we get to that airport, there will be a 'big payoff'! I promise! Scouts' honor!" he tacked on and raised his right hand.

But the Big Guy remained deeply skeptical. "You better not be lyin' ta me, Hannibal!" he gruffly re-warned.

* * *

Shortly after the Team's arrival at L.A.X., 'John H. Smith' was paged to pick up an airport courtesy phone. The Colonel held a brief, one-sided conversation with 'someone' and then announced that the 'big payoff' would take place in ten minutes, over at Gate 28.

* * *

"Hey, Mrs. B!" Murdock shouted out, being the first to spot B.A.'s mom among the milling throng of Gate 28's newly-arrived passengers.

"Hey, Murdock!" Mrs. B called back. "Come here, Crazy Man, so's I kin give you a big ol' hug…"

The pair embraced and H.M. got the stuffing squeezed out of him.

"Gosh, it's good to see you again! Now, where is that son a' mine?" The woman stepped back and began scanning the crowd.

The Colonel had been keeping a watchful eye on the Big Guy. He didn't want to miss seeing his Sergeant's reaction to the 'big payoff'. Immediately upon hearing his mother's voice, B.A. had gone from glum to giddy…just as Hannibal had hoped—and planned.

"I'm right here, Mama!" her son declared, and promptly elbowed his way up to the woman. B.A. picked his 'Mama' clean up off of her feet and, in spite of her size—and their tight quarters—whirled her around a few times. The two of them then proceeded to hug the stuffing out of each other. "I missed you, Mama!"

"I missed you, too, Son! That's why, when Hannibal wired me the money for a ticket this morning, I dropped everything and hopped on the first plane that was headin' West!"

Mrs. B's son was all smiles. "You wasn' lyin', Hannibal," he determined, and flashed the money sender a grateful grin. "Lucky for you!" he sternly added.

Noting that their brooding buddy was no longer blue, H.M. turned to the Colonel and quietly inquired, "How did you know?"

"Teammates are nice to have around," Hannibal told him. "But there are times when a man _needs_ his mother."

Murdock nodded thoughtfully.

Hannibal saw that Mrs. Baracus had finished squooshing—er, greeting Face and was now headed his way. "Ah-ahhh, easy on the ribs!" he pleaded, as he was pulled into a crushing bear hug.

Face, Murdock and B.A. watched—and winced, as the 'I love it when a plan comes together!' look, that had been pasted upon their Commander's face for the past few minutes, was quickly replaced with a grimace.

They had beaten the blues, but not the black and blues. ;)


	8. Chapter 8

"The Message"

"**The Message"**

By Ross7

Hunkered down in a leaky, log lean-to on the slippery slope of a mountain is no place to be in an electrical storm.

Yet, that is precisely where Amy and Hannibal found themselves.

Cut off from their colleagues, the pair had spent the past three days dodging DeBruin's militia. Only by plunging into the densest of wilderness, did the duo finally manage to elude their tenacious pursuers. Unable to reach a road, and tired of traipsing through the trees, the two had begun climbing.

So, now, there they were, cowering in the middle of a maelstrom, on an exposed peak of one of the San Gabriels.

Amy pressed herself deeper into their hastily erected shelter and trembled, more out of fear than from being half-frozen—which she was.

Hannibal wrapped a comforting arm about her shaking shoulders. "Don't worry, kid!" he shouted, to be heard over the roar of the wind. "We'll be okay!"

Amy couldn't help but smile. The air around them was exploding with a zillion volts of electricity…they were seconds away from being flushed down the mountainside…and Hannibal was expecting her NOT to worry?

* * *

Fifteen terrifying minutes later, the tempest finally subsided. The sun broke through the clouds and 'peace and serenity' returned to their precarious mountaintop position.

Amy stepped out of the remains of their shelter to watch the storm depart. A calm came over the reporter as she recalled a poem that she had penned back in junior high. "The Message," she quietly began quoting. "God sent it with a Storm…and Lightning flashed it across the sky! Mighty Thunder read it…and clapped it savagely in reply! The Wind roared it through the Trees…and the Trees whispered it back to the Rain. The Rain splattered it to the ground…and pounded it against my windowpane. Then, calm…as The Message went…unanswered."

"Ni-ice!" the Colonel critiqued. Another 'air disturbance' suddenly caught his attention and his slight smile broadened into a grin. "Speaking of messages…Sounds like Murdock must a' seen ours."

The two turned in the 'chop-chop-chopping' sound's direction.

The approaching aircraft zeroed in on the enormous '**A**' the two of them had managed to form by piling up loose boulders—of which there was an abundant supply.

A rope ladder was lowered from the hovering helicopter and The A-Team's two missing members were retrieved.

"'Bout time you guys showed up!" Hannibal shouted, to be heard over the chopper's whirling rotors. "I'm all out of cigars!"

The Lieutenant rolled his eyes and quickly passed the complaining Colonel a smoke.

Murdock shot the disheveled Amy an anxious glance. She 'looked' none the worse for wear. He flashed her a warm, reassuring smile and then turned to Face, as he reclaimed his co-pilot's seat.

The two of them breathed a couple silent sighs of relief, before breaking into broad grins.

They loved it when their team came together.


End file.
